The headaches started the day after my 21st birthday. We had been partying at my favorite brewery and admittedly, I did drink a bit much. We all had a shot or two to honor my birthday and then maybe a shot or two more to celebrate seeing each other after the weeks we'd been apart, and then, of course, a good amount of hand crafted micro brew. Especially me because I’m a mug club member and get my beers for free on my b-day. Some of my friends had never been to Arcadia before and I felt like I owed them a good time, even though it WAS a Wednesday. On top of that, it really is my second favorite place in the world. I’m not sure what my first favorite is, I don't think I’ve been there yet.
I always loved the way I felt when I walked through the brewery. It towered over its patrons like a huge barn, rafters exposed, long benches at family style tables that automatically instilled camaraderie with anyone sitting nearby, and the friendly vibe continued all the way out onto a log cabin style covered deck overlooking Lake Arcadia. The weather had remained in the low 80s for the past few weeks so we decided to take advantage before the unpredictable fall set in.
My friends had hung a large vinyl banner from the rafters that read, "Molly is Old, but We Love Her Anyway." We were sitting at tables all shoved together and taking up about 75% of the deck area before Kirsten and Joey showed up. They were all hyped because they had just downloaded new apps for their biopasses. I had always felt like I should get more creative with mine, but I really didn't care enough to bother. I wanted to use mine for what it was intended, and that's about it. ID, credit, medical records, university security. I felt annoyed that with most new app downloads came an invasion of privacy. Advertising agencies, including student organizations, and many other factions could access my information: all of my Amazon buying info, favorite restaurant visits, monthly girly cycle and typical driving patterns among many other invasions into my life.
I listened to them drone on and on about how happy they were to be able to calculate and view exact restaurant tips in their occipital lobes by simply looking at the total bill. We all toasted again and had a big argument about whether buying or renting a house right out of college was smarter. I was making headway on my stance that we should all stay as mobile as possible for as long as possible, when Lance popped a balloon behind me and I nearly fell off the bench. What can I say? I'm easily startled. At least Lance and Joey thought I was hilarious, and I probably was, considering how much I'd had to drink.
I gave him a stern scolding which caused me to fall into my own fit of uncontrollable giggles. "You're NAUGHTY," I told him again. "Don't mess with me, or I'll sick Claire on you!"
A blurred bit later, Claire and I found some uber hottie boys sitting at the bar, and she, as usual convinced them to come home with us to watch Princess Bride. I will never understand why that ancient movie works, but it always does.
So I woke up hung over, hating life. I had to really think hard to remember if I had said or done anything really incriminating or embarrassing the night before, and even checked with Claire to make sure I hadn't pissed her or anyone else off. I flopped on her bed and moaned my lament for healthy, non-alcohol affected brain cells and she rubbed my temples for me in a sign of solidarity. I was so glad I had kicked my boy for the night, Travis, out after the movie.
"Moll Doll, you seem more than just hung over today," she observed. I couldn't argue with her. I was feeling way drained. My head was splitting and it was making me nauseous, so I let her dish about Jarrod, who had left recently, apparently.
"Moll, oh em gee, he had great abs, but I couldn't stand his mustache. Not so much the look of it, but the scratchy feel. Ick." She rubbed my temples a little more until I decided to go back to bed.
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When I woke, I felt like I had been sleeping for days, but my headache hadn't gone away. If anything, it might have been worse. I got up, groggy, disoriented and weak. I found Claire curled up on the couch half asleep, but when she saw me her eyes popped wide and she tensed.
"Oh my god, Moll! I was a few minutes away from calling a doctor! You’ve been dead to the world since Thursday afternoon!"
"Why, how long have I been out?" I asked innocently.
She grimaced and paused, "Its Saturday hon... I probably shouldn't have waited so long, but I didn't want to overreact..."
"Holy shit!" Ow, that hurt my head. "holy shit..." I whispered this time. "Clairy, I’m in crazy pain. Maybe that doctor is in order."
Like a concerned mother she bundled me up despite the warm day, plopped me in her car and took me to the small town physician on the other side of Lake Arcadia. He poked and prodded, but after a thorough exam, the doctor couldn't find anything wrong.
Apparently, I was fine. I was healthy. I had no excuse for my headache. But it still wasn't going away.
By the next morning I’m pretty sure I had my first full blown migraine.
And that morning I saw him for the first time.
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He walked right through our living room. At first I thought someone had broken in. and then, as I watched him move in his choppy, flashing, 1920's cinema type way, I became sure he was a ghost. I sat very very still moving only my eyes, pulling the blanket on my lap slowly higher to cover myself as the ghost paced the room a few times with no real destination. I could hear him muttering something under his breath in a distracted murmur, "No, no... Maybe the other one... I could swear... I thought it would work... the best option... enough time. Enough if..."
As he became clearer and more lifelike to me, I started to really freak out. Fighting against what felt like living rigor mortis, I was finally able to completely cover myself with the blanket. Then, like a kid beneath a bed sheet on Halloween, I abruptly jumped up and, knocking over the end table and all the digital frames on it, dashed for the safety of the nearest bedroom. I tried to silence my panting and wildly beating heart as I peered through the crack of Claire's bedroom door, but he didn't seem to see me. He was going about his own business, looking both ways before crossing an invisible street, waving to an unseen neighbor, shuffling through a stack of papers. I began to realize I was watching a montage of his insignificant life events and that he wasn't here at all.
What the hell? My headache hit me again like a ton of bricks falling from the Sears Tower. Was I hallucinating? Did someone drug me on my birthday and was I suffering after effects of date rape averted? Holy shit. I was losing it.
Then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he pixelated right before my eyes and was gone. Slowly my terror began turning into anger... who had set me up? I didn't really think that Claire could pull if off, even if she did have money for a holo-caster. Plus that, I know everyone she knows, and that guy in the hologram was a total stranger. It must have been someone who came up north from Ann Arbor for my birthday! Probably Craig. Or Joey! Joey is TOTALLY into new technologies, and I could absolutely see him thinking this was a great use of his new gadget.
I slowly moved, still cautious and trying to calm my breathing, from Claire's dark bedroom. I made a couple tiptoeing once-overs before I dropped to my hands and knees to check under the couch and chairs. No receiver! Where had he hidden it? I jumped up and threw open the closet door for a quick glance before circling the island between the living room and kitchen to open all the cupboard doors for an inspection. Nothing. A receiver for even the most expensive personal use holo-caster is the size of a shoe box and only has a range about the circumference of an above ground swimming pool, or a little smaller than my condo, I thought to myself. I sat down and really thought about it, and as I wracked my brain, I realized that this was the first time I’d been able to concentrate in four days! My headache was gone! Not even a lingering trace...
Before HE had appeared, I had been slumped on the couch, partially blanket covered and nearly comatose, trying to survive my migraine. And now it was totally gone. Weird. Maybe the shock had knocked the tumor I had decided I must be growing loose from my brain stem.
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When Claire got home, I was ready for the beach. Bikini on, flip flops and towels by the door, beers and turkey sandwiches in a cheap-o Styrofoam cooler. I was ITCHING to get out of the condo, and normally I wouldn't be so co-dependent, but it had been a strange day.
"Come on, come on, come on Clairy! Today is beautiful and we only have a few more days here! We totally have to take advantage of it!"
She broke into a relieved grin, "God Moll Doll, I’m so glad you're back to your old self! Let’s hit it!"
I grabbed the cooler and my flops, and we jogged the three flights of stairs down to the parking lot. I still couldn't believe that we got such a great deal from Claire's older brother to sublet his condo for the summer. Most college students don't get that kind of opportunity. The cluster of three story, grey-washed, board and batten buildings sat directly on, or yards from the beach. We didn't have a Lake Michigan view, but we could see Lake Arcadia over the other side of the peninsula, through the tress. Beautiful. The hot pavement jolted me back to the present and I threw the rubber sandals out in front of me to shuffle into them. As we rounded the corner of the large grey building, the wind off Lake Michigan hit me in the face.
Claire turned toward me and tried to speak despite gulping down a gust of air, "Moll," she squinched her face into the wind, "Moll, are you feeling better? What do you think was up with that headache? I've never seen you like that before..."
"I’m good. SUDDENLY good... headache-wise." I judged her expression to see if it seemed genuine. "Claire, I gotta ask you something..."
We had reached a good spot that was near the water, but still shaded a little from the wind by an outcropping of beach grass, and I threw my towel down. Claire tilted her head inquisitively, "Anything Moll Doll, what's up?"
I wasn't really sure how to ask her without sounding accusatory. And really, I hadn't brought her out here to question her; I truly was excited to be out in the sun, feeling healthy and refreshed. I could hardly feel animosity about the prank earlier. After all, it HAD rid me of my "toomuh." I giggled allowed at my own dumb joke and she squinted again, concerned. "Moll??"
"Sorry, sorry. WEIRD day. So, I was wondering if you know anything about a little joke that someone played on me earlier." There. Direct, unaccusatory, safe question.
"Uh, no... why? What happened?" She seemed authentically engrossed. "Tell me!"
"Well... earlier, there was a DUDE in our CONDO," I began my story. Purposely playing up the drama because I know she loves it.
"NO WAY! Who? What happened?"
I told her all about the event, down to his orange t-shirt and matching visor. "And then, poof! He disappeared! Ok, well, not really 'poof,' more like he faded, but he was gone all of a sudden, like he was never there..."
She had been sitting wide eyed, patient. Then she blinked and said, "Was he hot at least??" and we both broke into a much welcome fit of giggles.
"Yeah, now that I think about it, he really was!" I looked at her a little harder and realized that she thought I had been kidding. I quickly sobered up, "Claire, listen. There really was a... a holo in our condo earlier, and I looked EVERYWHERE, all I found was the wireless router, with some weird attachments, but I couldn't find the receiver anywhere, and if you don't know anything about it, that kinda freaks me out..." I knitted my eyebrows for emphasis.
"Molly, first of all, I DON'T know anything about it..." Her eyes grew wide again, "And secondly, remember that burglary last summer where the perps used a 'caster to convince the landlord he needed to unlock the apartment door?"
I nodded solemnly and she finished her thought, "Well, um, Mol, those weird attachments? My brother installed a Holoblocker for security purposes while he was gone..."
As her words sunk in, a cloud rudely drifted in front of the sun. I pulled my towel around my shoulders and tried to stifle a shiver, "Then... who... or WHAT, was in our place today??"
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Probably about an hour had passed, but we were still laying there in silence. I had cracked a beer but it was getting warm and leaving a growing wet spot in the sand from condensation. Further up the beach I could see children playing with a Frisbee and a couple splashing each other in the shallow water of the nearest sandbar. The shifting sand had covered the bottom few steps to the park above the beach this summer, and a small brown rabbit sat half hidden in the dune grass eating flowers. I thought about taking the long way up those stairs and around to the road to get home, instead of climbing back over the dune to the condo. Really, I just wanted to prolong our return. Right now the condo represented a sinister arcanum to deal with.
Claire finally spoke, "Are you really worried, Mol? You know it wasn't an actual PERSON in our condo, right? You’re sure?"
"Yeah, totally sure. I guess I should just get over it, but if it wasn't a holo and it OBVIOUSLY wasn't a person, what could it be? And why?"
Just then something thumped right behind me throwing sand in the air, and into my wilting beer can. I whirled, startled to see a tanned guy, probably a couple years older than us jogging over to retrieve his football.
"Hey girls! Sorry about that! Didn’t mean to disturb your sun worship!" He smirked at each of us mischievously.
Claire and I exchanged knowing glances. I winked at her and turned to fix my gaze back on the bronzed stranger who had just arrived. The first thing that I noticed was how skinny his bare chest seemed compared to his head, topped with a mop of longish sun bleached hair haphazardly pulled back in a knot at the back of his neck. His linen pants hung loosely around his waist so his davids were fully visible. Complete with a scraggly goatee, his slightly crooked teeth grinned at us, waiting for a response. TOTALLY Claire's type, vintage hippy, TRENDY, someone who was clearly ABOVE braces.
"Hi." I said, and waited. That was our game, Claire's and mine. He cocked his head, licked his lips and smirked another crooked smirk, defying my brevity. I liked this guy.
Claire gave in. "What's your name?" More of the game: never give your name out first. Or at all, depending on the circumstances.
"Mitch. Yours?"
"That's Molly." I gave her a disapproving look. She was obviously already into this guy. She rolled her eyes at me, "I'm Claire."
"Well nice to meet you Claire, Molly." He nodded at each of us, samurai-like. "Do you guys live here, or are you visiting? I’m just getting my lay of the land."
"Why? You’re not from around here?" Claire's curiosity was getting the better of her, as usual. "We can show you around..."
"We've got plans in a few." I interjected, shooting her another warning look.
Yeah, I know, I’m too cautious. But it's not just that. I also don't ever like to seem too eager. Or desperate. I’m not the most confident person in the world, but I at least like to project it. Boys like that. And Claire was always getting her self into sticky situations that I would eventually and inevitably have to bail her out of. Hence, the game. Did I mention that our game is really more MY game? She always said I was a buzz kill, but I didn't like to make the chase too easy.
He looked a little deflated. "Well, that's cool. I’d love to take you up on that tour sometime though, if you don't mind." He turned to walk away but hesitated and looked back over his shoulder, "My boys and I will be out on the lake later if you're interested... marina around 9?"
He didn't even check to see if we accepted, his easy, cool confidence carrying him up over the dune in long strides. It’s a good thing he didn't look back because I would've blown our cover. We couldn't conceal the our excitement. One last chance to meet some boys before the summer ended!
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